The Dreams of Pregnant Mermaids
by American Gelato
Summary: Spain has an epiphany, and he just can't wait to tell Romano about it! Derived from a very interesting message within a box of Altoids :) Rated because of Romano's Romano-ness.


**A/N: I didn't expect my first story to be as popular as it is. I got two lovely reviews from FlyingLikeAButterfly and AimIsTalking. Thank you for your compliments, darlings! :D Also, a lot of people favorited it, and for that, I thank you all as well :3**

**So this came up in a conversation during lunch one day. As I was eating Altoids I read the little wrapper paper inside the container and it said, quote:**

**"The strength of Altoids comes from the use of real peppermint oil and the dreams of pregnant mermaids."**

**My friends and I laughed so hard at this, and everyday afterward, they would ask me it they could have a pregnant mermaid dream after eating XD. Then last week, when one of us had Tic Tacs, we dubbed them "minty-flavored Aderol". And because my mind is constantly turning to create ideas for new fanfictions, I instantly decided that those conversations would be perfect for Spain and Romano. I've also always had this assumption that Romano is a lot more open when texting, since no one can see him blush if he did :) Hopefully that explains his OOCness.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT own the Aldoid company or the Tic Tac company. I do own some Altoids and Tic Tacs, though. They're delicious. Enjoy ;D**

The Spanish sky was a deep royal blue, a typical sight for the month of July, and littered with various types of clouds. Some were puffy and stout, others were streaky and long, and both types helped the sun play a continuous game of hide-and-seek. Everyone had decided that this day would be the perfect day to have picnics, parties, outdoor sport matches, or to just take a walk. Families were sprawled on their picnic blankets, eating and socializing, while the children played games of tag and soccer. The excited voices of children yelling "You can't catch me!" and the teenagers shouting "Pass it to me! No, I'm on your right, smart-ass!" cut through the air with various intensities. Some were sharp and clear, leaving no room for interpretation, whereas others were muffled and far-off, allowing people's imaginations to warp them into whatever they wanted.

Normally, this would also be the ideal weather for a certain Spaniard to go tomato picking (he really needed to, his supply in the fridge was dangerously low) or to just procrastinate the day away (as if he wasn't already doing that, but it would provide a change of scenery…). But his attention was focused on this phone, and would be for a while now. He really couldn't stand seeing people constantly checking their phone as if it would suddenly change into some obscene creature that no one had ever seen before. He really tried not to develop a habit of doing that himself, but days like today were an exception.

Because, obviously, his little tomato-lover was an exception to everything.

Romano, despite the fact that he was an adult nation and could take care of himself, dammit, still lived with his old Boss. He usually stayed at Spain's place, even though the fiery Neapolitan readily denied any accusation that they were together (*cough cough* hypocrite *cough*), and would help him pick tomatoes, keep him company, and most importantly, keep the Spaniard out of trouble. But on certain weeks like this week, when his current Boss weighed him down with paperwork that his brother refused to do or was incapable of doing, Romano was forced to stay at his own home to get it done. This really didn't happen very often, maybe once or twice a year lately (Germany was getting Italy to do more of the work himself now), but when it did happen it seemed to last forever.

While Romano was surely wasting away in his office, Spain had to cope with the silence that crept about the house, stalking him as he turned corners and hovering over him as he took his daily _siestas_. The first day of Romano's absence he ran about the house, making as much commotion as possible by cleaning and straightening up every part of the house for Romano's return (despite the fact that Romano himself sucked at cleaning, he never liked a messy house unless it was his own). Unfortunately, Spain was through with that by the end of the first evening. The next day, he invited France and Prussia over to hang out. That was nice, since Spain was able to have the kind of conversations with them like back in the old days before Romano would chase them out. They even agreed to spend the night, as well, making one hell of a drunken racket. When they left the next day, the house was, once again, in total disarray, allowing Spain to, once again, clean it. On the fourth and fifth days, however, no one, not even Belgium or Austria, had time to come over. The silence once again settled into the house, and Spain thought he would soon go insane.

Now, on the sixth day, he just gave up. Accepting the fact that no one had the time to entertain him, he decided to just laze the day away on the red couch that adorned the living room. Dressed in his most comfortable (and junky) jeans and an old Spanish soccer jersey, he just laid there, basking in the warm breeze that the summer day swept through the open windows and into the living room. He let his mind wander to Romano's face for the fortieth time that day, longing to have him there with him.

Luckily, though, Romano would be returning to Spain tomorrow evening, and the bubbly Spaniard was practically bursting with the need to at least hear his _tomate's_ voice. But since Romano's Boss forbade him to talk with Spain until the work was done, they had contented themselves with sneaking text messages to each other. It wasn't the same, but it helped calm Spain's anxiety a little.

Now, Spain had noticed a long time ago, back when this "extended absence" routine started, that Romano was a lot more open when texting. He didn't put up as much of the tough-guy façade he usually had in public, and he would even content himself with putting emoticons in his messages. If he called Spain a _bastardo _or _idiota_, it was more out of affection than anything else. His laconic replies were much less frequent, and he also went along with whatever ridiculous conversation Spain would instigate, making them even more ridiculous as it went on. If Spain enjoyed anything when Romano was away, it was their text message conversations.

Since Romano had officially finished the paperwork yesterday evening, they has been texting non-stop. However, Romano had abruptly stopped texting back and that made Spain anxious. _Did I offend him? Did something bad happen to his brother? What did I do?!_ Before he could start fantasizing about what morbid fate could have befallen his _querido_, his phone buzzed, emitting a shrill calypso tone, signaling that Romano had texted him back.

_'Sorry I didn't text back, Boss found some ancient paperwork that needed to be done. I swear, he must pull it out of his ass or something, I didn't see it anywhere :P'_

Spain immediately calmed down at seeing Romano's text, and found himself laughing at his crude insult.

_'Not to worry, _tomate_! So, while you were dealing with that ,I had an epiphany~ :)'_

Not fifteen seconds after he pressed send, his phone trilled and vibrated again. _Romano sure is quick to reply when he's not busy,_ Spain mused. Of course, that's what made their conversations even more enjoyable.

_'Ugh, I don't think I want to fucking know, but tell me anyways :P'_

Spain couldn't help but let an excited _Fusosososo~ _escape his lips as he replied:

_'Altoids are the dreams of pregnant mermaids.'_

As he read the message he just sent, the Spaniard proceeded to fall off the couch he was sprawled across and landed on the floor, laughing harder than he had in weeks. The idea sounded absurd enough in his head, but when put in an _actual message_, and sending it to _Romano_ of all people! Rich, just rich.

He was brought out of his laughing fit by his phone sending an angry buzzing his way and, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, he read Romano's reply:

'_WHAT. THE. FUCK. WHAT ARE YOU ON, YOU _BASTARDO?!'

_'Absolutely nothing ;)'_

'_Then how the hell did you get that stupid idea?'_

_'Well, I was eating Altoids, and I noticed the wrapper had something typed on there. I read it and it said that they were made of the dreams of pregnant mermaids'_

_'…'_

_'Come on, admit you laughed ;D'_

_'… Maybe a little :)'_

_'There, you see? Was that so hard?'_

_'You've been hanging out with France and Prussia waaaaay too much, _idiota_. They give you these stupid ideas, that's why I hate being around them. I might catch their stupid. '_

_'Hey, they love hanging out with you, Roma! France says you're adorable and Prussia thinks your I-don't-give-a-fuck-just-shut-up attitude is hilarious! And wouldn't you be catching their stupid second-hand by hanging out with me, anyways?'_

_'Well, you're not as big a pervert as France and you don't say the word _awesome_ every other sentence, so you're tolerable.'_

_'AWWW, ROMA! _Tú eres tan lindo_! XD'_

_'Shut up'_

_'But seriously, the pregnant mermaids…'_

_'Well, if Altoids are pregnant mermaid dreams, then Tic Tacs must be minty-flavored Aderol.'_

_'Ah, yes, it all makes sense now! \(^-^)/'_

Yes, this was the norm. Most people would think it hard to believe that these two would even have a conversation like this. They were grown men, after all, and here they were acting like teenagers at a cafeteria table. But if they were to look closely, they would see that this is how these two not only accepted the others' opinions and thoughts, but showed their affection. Accepting a friend's ideas, regardless of how absurd they are, is true friendship on its own. But when someone as brusque and aloof as Romano actually _goes along _with the antics of someone like Spain, it's something more than friendship.

It's love.

_'Oi, _bastardo,_ Italy wants me to take him around Rome before I go tomorrow so I'll talk to you later.'_

_'Aww, OK Roma, _te amo_ 3 ;D'_

_'… _ti amo, idiota_ :)'_

Spain let out a childish giggle at Romano's affection and put his phone down on the couch. He decided to quit his procrastinating and go pick tomatoes for the _panino_ they would eat for dinner tomorrow. As he opened the back door and stepped out into the warm rays of sunlight that bathed the tomato garden, he listened to the shouted taunts and yells of encouragement from the teenagers continuing their soccer match. He smiled to himself, remembering the times he would play soccer with Romano when he finished his work early, or on the evenings before he would have to leave for long periods of time to go travel or fight. It was one of the few times Romano would openly laugh in front of him. Not the harsh, mocking laugh for when Spain got hurt or did something stupid, but the giggly, bell-like laugh that showed the purity of childhood. The laughing children sounded so much like that.

He made a mental note to do anything it took to hear Romano laugh like that again tomorrow after dinner.

**EDIT: Thank you, Stardust98, for pointing out the Spanish mistake! I really appreciate it :)**

**Some of the Spanish and Italian phrases are easy enough to figure out on their own, but just so you all know, "Tú eres tan lindo" means "You're so cute" in Spanish, and Neapolitan is what you call someone from South Italy (I think, please correct me if I'm wrong and I will gladly change it. I got it from The Delicious Tomato Song :3). Also, ****_panino_**** is how the Italians call panini. Mmm, panini :3**

**This story isn't as long as my last one since most of it is composed of Spain and Romano's texts. Again, I apologize for the rushed ending, if you have suggestions on how to make it better, please let me know :)**

**Reviews are awesome, they're what make me want to write for you all! Constructive criticism is welcome, as well as corrections on certain words, comma splice, awkward sentences, and how the story appealed to you. And remember, flames are not for reviewing stories, they are for lighting the torch for the Bikini Bottom Fry Cook Games.**


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